Page 61 of The Rogue

She nods, pushing against my chest playfully. “Rent free. Can’t beat that.”

Placing a hand on her lower back, I follow her. We’re in the dark hallway between both rooms when I twist her to face me. I want to thank her for sticking up for Jackson today—even if my kid doesn’t need protecting from me. I want to thank her for making him feel safe, taking care of my home, for dinner and just…being here.

Gentle, thoughtful words when it comes to anyone other than my son is foreign to me. So I just stare at her.

Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t need a lecture on appropriate nanny behavior, Indie. I’m aware I screwed up on several counts today.”

I blink. “Several?”

“The creek.” Her eyes drop to my mouth. “The stables. Then falling asleep with your kid in your bed. I promise I’m not—”

“Tessa, you let my kid drag you on an adventure. I kissedyouin the stables. And in there, with Jackson, it’s exactly the kind of thing…”

“A nanny does?”

“Yeah.”

That’s much better than what I almost said.

The kind of thing heneeds. That I want.

She nods like she’s reassuring herself she’s not in trouble. Then looks up at me tentatively, wincing almost.

“In that case, maybe I can get one ‘rogue’ comment in before the day’s over?”

I roll my eyes. And it feels intimate. Being out here. Like we’re sneaking around. Like we’re sharing a secret.

“Go for it.”

“That kiss has got me wondering what else cowboys do better.”

My eyes stay locked on hers. Other than my heart landing in my throat and my cock jerking to attention, I can’t react. But I don’t need to because Tessa turns with that sleepy smirk and steps into her bedroom, closing the door a fraction of the way. “Night, Tess.”

15

My eyes shoot openbut my head is still on the pillow. Pulling my hand to my chest, I frown at the steady beat of my heart.

Huh.

It’s quiet and pitch black outside my window. I have a rough idea of the time, but still, I reach for the cell phone on my nightstand to check.

4:37 A.M.

I twist back, facing the ceiling. My guess this morning was off by thirty-seven minutes. But that’s not what stuns me.

I didn’t wake gasping for air.

My sleep shirt is dry. The sheets aren’t sweat-stained.

The nightmare still plays on repeat, and even though I know history is not repeating itself, I still fear it.

But something was different tonight—just before I woke up…before that gun went off—a powerful intuition of security washed over me.

Like I somehow knew that on the other side of that wall of slumber—I was safe.

Which is strange considering my door is closed—a dumb live-in nanny rule. And I’m alone in a place where people…let’s say,tolerateme.

And a place where they regret kissing me.

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